


The Magic Door

by SevenForASecret



Series: The Ouroboros Cycle [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenForASecret/pseuds/SevenForASecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hypercube from The Corsair leads The Doctor, Rose and Mickey to a fifty-first century spaceship that has punched holes in the universe, magic doors that all seem to lead to a sleepy little English town called Leadworth, along the life of a precocious ginger-haired scot named Amelia Pond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fireplace

The Doctor was sitting in the console room, regaling Mickey with a tale from his adventures, so that maybe he would stop complaining about being the 'tin dog.' K-9 had been a very valuable companion, even when he had laryngitis. "And then we discovered it wasn't the Robot King after all, it was the real one. Fortunately, I was able to re-attach the head." He finished with a flourish.

Mickey looked at Rose in disbelief. "Do you believe any of this stuff?"

Rose looked away, slightly put out. She still wasn't even entirely certain why Mickey was there. He was an uncomfortable reminder of home and the estate, when she was supposed to be out in the universe, exploring with The Doctor. "I was there." She admitted, unsure of how to relate to him now - especially since she now realised that her place with The Doctor was far less special than she had first assumed. Luckily, this awkward moment was disrupted by the TARDIS making a high-pitched noise and flashing lights around the console. "What are those, Doctor?" She asked, instantly interested.

"Oh, it's the warning lights. I'm getting rid of those. They never stop." The Doctor said, waving a hand. He moved to turn off the lights, and a moment later, it came.

It was a musical knocking on the TARDIS door.

"What was that?" Rose asked, staring at the door in amazement.

"What?!" The Doctor said in amazement. "That's impossible! We're in deep space!" He started moving slowly to the door, when it came again.

"How can someone be knocking in deep space?" Mickey asked.

"Exactly!" The Doctor said excitedly, moving to the TARDIS doors and flinging it open, his mouth opening in amazement. "Come here!" he said, to a glowing white box, floating outside the door. "Come here you impossible little beauty!"

The box flew into the room and winged it's way around, as if inspecting the place, before thumping The Doctor hard on the chest and falling to the floor.

"What is it?" Rose asked, curious. "Doctor?"

The Doctor picked up the box and stared at it as if it was something rare and precious and fragile all at once. "I've got mail."

Rose suddenly felt as though she were out of the loop again. It was not a pleasant feeling. "It's just a glowing box. How can it be mail?"

The Doctor held up the box to the two companions. "Time Lord emergency messaging system. In an emergency, we'd wrap up thoughts in psychic containers and send them through time and space." He was practically bouncing, a smile on his face as wide as Rose had ever seen it.

"But your people are all dead." Rose said quietly, not wanting to remind him, but knowing she had too.

The Doctor held up the cube. "Not anymore! Maybe the old face was right! There's a living Time Lord still out there, and it's one of the good ones!"

"How can you tell?" Mickey asked, getting into the excitement of it all.

"Good question!" The Doctor crowed, tossing the box to Mickey. "See that snake?" There was a snake emblazoned on the box, swallowing it's own tail. "It's called an ouroboros. It was the mark of the Corsair. Fantastic bloke. He had that snake as a tattoo in every regeneration. Didn't feel like himself unless he had the tattoo. Or herself, a couple of times." The Doctor paused, a mischievous smile crossing his face. "Oh, she was a  _bad girl."_

He gleefully hit the lever to land them, missing the cross look on Rose's face at that statement.

* * *

The TARDIS landed hard, and The Doctor, slightly more calm after a tumultuous journey through the time vortex, opened the doors. The three exited the time machine, with Mickey wrapped up in amazement at where they were. "It's a spaceship. Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go."

"It doesn't look like your friend's here, Doctor." Rose said, looking around. "It looks kind of abandoned. Anyone on board?"

The Doctor visibly deflated, as if the hope had gone out of him. "Nah, nothing here. Well, nothing dangerous. Well, not that dangerous." He paused, as if remembering what his adventures were usually like. "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan, in case there's anything dangerous."

Rose wanted to cheer him up, and remind him, much as she did before, that while he might not have found another Time Lord, he still had her. So, she smiled her best smile. "So, what's the date? How far we gone?"

The Doctor a nodule as he answered her question. "About three thousand years into your future, give or take." He turned the nodule and opened the observation deck, letting the three of them look up at the stars. Stars that for a moment, one brief moment, had held hope. "Fifty-first century. Dagmar Cluster, you're a long way from home, Mickey. Two and a half galaxies."

Rose followed her starstruck boyfriend to the nearest window. "Mickey Smith, meet the universe. See anything you like?"

"It's so realistic!" Mickey said staring out at the reds and violets of the Dagmar Cluster.

The Doctor let them explore, trying instead to figure out how The Corsair's hypercube might have led him here. It was a mess, a mess that looked like someone had been trying to repair the ship with the fifty-first century equivalent of sellotape. "Dear me, had some cowboys in here. Got a ton of repair work going on." He took a second glance at the read out, only for his brow to crinkle in confusion. "Now that's odd. Look at that. All the warp engines are going. Full capacity." He leaned in, examining the readout closer. "There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe, but we're not moving. So where's all that power going?"

Rose was struck by another fact. "Where'd all the crew go?"

"Good question. No life readings on board." The Doctor replied, checking again.

"Well, we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick fag." Rose said, attempting to be a bit funny in a situation that had started out odd and was rapidly climbing up her strange-o-meter.

"No, I've checked all the smoking pods." The Doctor answered, but as he said the word smoke, he could smell something. Something like pork roasting. "Can you smell that?"

"Yeah, someone's cooking." Rose said, sniffing again.

"Sunday roast, definitely!" Mickey agreed, gad for something that smelled so familiar in a place that was so alien.

The Doctor hit a switch, and a panel opened into a room, where a fire was burning brightly in a white-painted brick fireplace, a miniature grandfather clock sitting on top of the mantel. "Well, there's something you don't see in your average spaceship. Twentieth century, British." He moved forward toward the fireplace, scanning it carefully with the sonic. "Nice mantle. Not a hologram. It's not even a reproduction. This actually is a twentieth century British fireplace, another little bit of home, Mickey. Double sided. There's another room through there."

Rose looked through a porthole on the wall, feeling the strange-o-meter start rising again. "There can't be. That's the outer hull of the ship. Look."

* * *

The Doctor may have looked, if it weren't for the fact that he was staring into the fireplace, which on the other side of the flames, sat a ginger-haired girl who was looking at him oddly. "Hello."

The ginger girl looked back at him, and replied, a bit suspiciously. "Hello."

"What's your name?" He asked, voice friendly. He could feel the other companions bending down beside him to look into the fireplace.

"Amelia Pond." The girl replied, looking slightly less suspicious.

"Oh, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Pond. Like a name in a fairy tale." The Doctor responded, noting her accent. "Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Amelia?"

"In my bedroom." Amelia replied, as if he had asked a particularly daft question.

"Are we in Scotland, Amelia?" The Doctor asked instead.

"No. We had to move to England. It's rubbish." Amelia replied, scrunching up her nose and giving a great sigh of annoyance. "What are you doing in my fireplace, mister?"

The Doctor didn't have a good answer for that, not really. "Oh, it's just a routine...fire check. Can you tell me what year it is?"

"What kind of question is that?" Amelia asked, but she answered anyway. "It's Easter, 1996."

"Right, lovely. One of my favourites. August is rubbish though. Stay indoors. Okay, that's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night." The Doctor advised.

"Good night, Fireplace Man." Amelia replied, just as he got up from the flames.

* * *

Mickey looked at The Doctor as he turned away from the fireplace. "You said this was the fifty-first century!"

"I also said this ship was generating enough power to punch a hole in the universe." The Doctor said slowly. "I think we just found the hole. Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."

"What's that?" Mickey asked, adding it to his list of 'Terms-The-Doctor-Used-That-He-Didn't-Understand.'

"No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'magic door."' He said frankly.

"And on the other side of the 'magic door'" Rose said, lowering her voice slightly over the words. "Is Easter, 1996 somewhere in England?"

"Certainly seems that way." The Doctor said easily. "I don't have a better idea." He let Rose and Mickey discuss magic doors and spaceships while he searched for something to control the fireplace. He found a lever, and pulled it, with a effusive, "Gotcha!" vaguely hearing Rose call after him as the fireplace turned, and him with it, into a child's bedroom.


	2. Monsters' Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor goes through the fireplace to meet a monster from underneath the bed.

The room was dark, and The Doctor glanced out the window, pulling back the white curtains to see a slightly overgrown back garden that would be any child's playground, with a swing hanging from an old tree, and a flagstone path leading to an old shed. He smiled to himself, and turned to look at the little redhead, fast asleep in her brass bed under a multicoloured quilt and crocheted afghan. As if sensing his presence, she woke with a start and a sharp intake of breath, that The Doctor knew usually precipitated a scream of fright.

"It's okay. Don't scream. It's me. It's the fireplace man. Look. We were talking just a moment ago. I was in your fireplace." He quickly got out the sonic screwdriver and used it to turn on her little bedside lamp so that she could see better. "See?"

Amelia looked up at him frankly, and then said something The Doctor wasn't expecting. "What took you so long?"

"What?" The Doctor repeated. "We just talked!"

The little redhead sat up, pushing her quilt aside. "That was Easter! It's July."

"What, really? The Doctor asked in surprise, moving back over to the fireplace. He scanned it quickly with his sonic and tapped along the brick. "Must be a loose connection. Need to get a man in."

Amelia watched him without moving from the bed. "What's that?" She asked, more curious about the apparent magic wand that had lit up her lamp and was now making noises at her fireplace, apparently attempting to fix the connection. "And who are you? What's so special about Leadworth?"

"I don't think it's Leadworth that's special, I think it's you." The Doctor replied, but quickly became distracted by the miniature grandfather clock sitting on the mantel. He could hear ticking, but the front of the clock was smashed, which meant..."Okay, that's scary."

Amelia was surprised by this, and a kind of cynicism that she was too young for seeped out in her voice. "You're scared of a broken clock?"

"Oh, you are Scottish, aren't you?" The Doctor replied, not looking away from the clock, even as he explained. "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Because, you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room, then what's that?"

Amelia suddenly realised that there was a ticking filling the room. She had never noticed it before, because the little clock had always made a ticking noise, even when it had been in her parent's house in Scotland, sitting on the mantle in the living room, comforting her about the constant flow of time. 

"Because, you see, that's not a clock. You can tell by the resonance. Too big. Six feet, I'd say. The size of a man." The Doctor explained, suddenly settling in to a more serious attitude.

"What is it?" Amelia asked, deliberately trying to cling to some form of anger rather than fear. She wasn't entirely succeeding, but she was trying her best.

"Now, let's think. If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do, break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" He was thinking out loud, and his voice softened slightly as he realised where he was. Where was the best place to hide in a little girl's bedroom. He took several slow steps across the room to the brass bed where the little girl sat, trying desperately to be brave. "You might start to wonder if you're really alone." He crouched beside the bed, and whispered to her. "Stay on the bed. Right in the middle. Don't put your hands or feet over the edge."

The Doctor lowered himself down to the floor, shining the sonic under the bed and scanning to see if he could figure out what it was in this room. Just as the sonic started to whir a proper reading, something knocked it clean out of his hand that moved quicker than he anticipated, leaving him staring at a pair of those trainers with the lights in the back that blinked when you walked. He slowly moved back to standing, staring in horror at what was before him. It was a thing, wearing something that looked like it had just walked out of a mid-nineteen-nineties boy-band video, in day-glo gold, orange, and green. Even his Sixth regeneration's coat hadn't been quite that hideous. It was made all the more terrifying by the mask made of some shiny plastic that looked like it had cost two quid at a local shop on Hallowe'en.

"Amelia, don't look round." The Doctor said softly to her, wishing to spare her some amount of nightmares in the future. The thing was, the thing from the ship didn't seem to be attempting to harm her . In fact, it hadn't moved since he had forced it from it's hiding spot. There was something about it, that made him think it had already done what it had come here to do. Instinctively, he swallowed. "Hold still, right where you are. Let me look." He placed his hands as gently as he could on her temples, brushing some red hair out of the way.

It had been a long time for him since he had used his telepathy this way, and he stayed away from actual thoughts as much as possible. Instead, he looked for, and found, footprints by a far less subtle thing. Despite himself, his anger came out, just a bit, mixed with shock, surprise, and a healthy dose of indignation. "You've been scanning her brain!" It was absurd, and yet, here it was. "What, you've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain? What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?"

Amelia looked up at him, hazel eyes wide. "I don't understand. It wants me?" She turned, all courage and a bit of spitfire. "You want me?"

The thing made an odd noise as it tilted it's head at her. "Not yet." It intoned in a mechanical, grinding voice. "You are incomplete."

That just didn't sit well with The Doctor. Amelia was just a child, she should be 'incomplete.' She should be out playing and running about, having fun, going to school. "Incomplete? What's that mean,  _incomplete?_ " Despite his commanding tone, the monster from under the bed said nothing. "You can answer her, you can answer me. What do you mean, incomplete?"

The thing The Doctor was fairly sure was a robot at this point, didn't answer. instead, it seemed to have decided that The Doctor was a threat to the completion of his mission, whatever that might be, and moved around the bed, extending a long sort of blade from it's wrist, and walking towards him in a manner that The Doctor supposed was intended to be frightening.

Amelia's eyes widened in fear. "Be careful, Fireplace Man!"

The Doctor tried to smile as he dodged a slice from the blade. "Just a nightmare, Amelia, don't worry about it. Everyone has nightmares." He took a few steps back, making the robot move with him towards the fireplace, but his focus was really on the redhead who looked at him as though he was a hero. "Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares, don't you, monster?"

Amelia seemed fascinated by this concept. "What do monsters have nightmares about?"

The Doctor grinned victoriously as the robot stuck it's blade in the fireplace. He reached for the mechanism to turn the fireplace, but not before answering Amelia's question. " _Me!_ "

And then, the fireplace turned.

* * *

 

The Doctor knew once the robot was back on it's ship it would be stronger and it wouldn't have to be concerned with protecting the little girl that was apparently excessively important to it for some reason. Important enough to blow a hole in the universe for at any rate. He had to act quickly, and grabbed the first thing that might help. The fire extinguisher was standard to human ships like this, and he had used one before, so he just sprayed the robot with it until it seized up.

"Excellent! Ice gun!" Mickey enthused, like a child in a toy store.

"Fire extinguisher." The Doctor corrected, tossing the extinguisher to Rose.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asked, who had seen nothing so far on the ship, and instead spent the time since The Doctor had left in awkward silence with Mickey, punctuated by his amazed questions about this bit of tech or that panel. She couldn't fake knowledge like she had with Adam, Mickey knew her well enough to know when she was lying. It didn't feel right, being left behind with Mickey while The Doctor went off through some magic door, spaceship or no spaceship.

"It's from here." The Doctor replied.

"So why's it dressed like that?" Mickey asked, making a face.

"Field trip to the nineteen-nineties. Some kind of basic camouflage protocol. Good idea, shame about the colour-blindness." He moved up close to it, removing the plasticated mask, and despite himself, was impressed. "Oh, you are beautiful! No, really, you are. You're gorgeous! Look at that. Space age clockwork, I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart, and, by the way, count those, it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism to disassemble you." His usual manic energy for adventure had taken over, as he raised his sonic screwdriver. "But that won't stop me."

he didn't get the chance. Before he could so much as remove a bolt, the android had teleported. The Doctor looked around, considering his options. "Short range teleport. Can't have got far. Could still be on board." that said, he was more concerned about the little girl. He took a step back toward the fireplace.

"What is it?" Rose asked, hoping to distract him, or remind him that they were here, whatever he was up to, hoping for a cheerful 'What are you waiting for' or even 'Come along then.' She didn't get it.

The Doctor stepped up to the fireplace, careful his big brown coat didn't catch. "Don't go looking for it!"

Rose stared at him. "Where're you going?"

"Back in a sec!" The Doctor called, spinning the fireplace again.

Rose stared at the empty fireplace for just a second, before hefting the 'fire extinguisher' like action heroines did in the movies. If The Doctor was going to have an adventure without them, they could have an adventure without him.

Mickey didn't seem to get it. "He said not to look for it."

"Yeah, he did." Rose agreed, with a significant look. Mickey got it and quickly ran for the second fire extinguisher. Rose rewarded him with a smile. "Now you're getting it."

And so, they wandered off.


	3. Impossibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets an older Amelia, now Amy, and begins to think she may be his old friend, while Rose and Mickey explore the derelict ship.

The room had changed. That was the first thing The Doctor had noticed. The bright light from the sunshine let him know that even more time had past. He ran his fingers along the dresser, which no longer held dolls or finger-paintings like it had before. The bed had been shifted, a pale peach comforter replacing the colourful quilt. Cautiously, he called out for the girl, hoping she was still here.

“Amelia?” He ran his fingers along her CD cases. “Just checking you're okay.” 

“Oi!”

The Doctor turned, surprised to see a redhead about Rose’s age in a short skirt and an ivory sweater, a long red scarf around her neck. 

“Oh!” The Doctor said, startled and slightly embarrassed. “Er...Hello. Uh...I was just looking for Amelia. This is still her room, isn't it? I've been away, not sure how long.”

Before the redhead could answer, a voice called from elsewhere in the house. “Amy! Rory’s here, and I have to get to work!”

The redhead gave The Doctor a small smirk, before calling an answer. “Go to work, Aunt Sharon! I forgot something. I’ll be right down!” She waited until she heard a door close, and winked. “It took you long enough.”

“Amy?” The Doctor repeated, somehow the name didn’t seem to fit, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Amelia!” Then, he realised that the redhead was moving closer, and he shifted slightly, trying to avoid being cornered by the Scottish girl. “Well, uh...goodness how you’ve grown.” 

“My psychiatrists thought acclimating to a new name would allow me to get past the childish need for an imaginary friend who comes out of my fireplace to save the day.” Amy explained. Despite the topic, she was smiling at him, though. “And yet, you’re no older. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was crazy.”

 The Doctor was beginning to se how badly this had gone for her over the years. Psychiatrists were no one’s idea of fun. “Right, yes, sorry. Listen, lovely to catch up, but better be off, eh? Don't want your mother finding you up here with a strange man, do we?” He grinned. “Might send you off to another psychiatrist.”

“Don’t have a mother, just an aunt.” Amy corrected. “And you’re not a stranger, I’ve known you since I was seven.”

The Doctor had a hard time putting this girl in the same context as the seven-year-old he had saved from the clockwork android. “Yeah, I suppose you have. I came the quick route.”

Amy leaned in and touched his cheek. Her hand was warm, and it made The Doctor jump slightly. “You’re real.” She breathed in something like awe. “I had half started to believe what everyone said. How can you be here? It doesn’t make sense.” 

The Doctor chuckled. “The best things in the universe never do.”

Amy looked as though she was about to reply, when a male voice filtered into the room. “Amy! Amy, we’re going to be late!”

“Just give me a minute!” Amy snapped at the voice, angry for the moment being interrupted. It reminded her, however, how fleeting this moment was. “I have so many questions.” She admitted. “But so little time.” So, she gave up on questions, and instead, fisted her hands in the lapels of the pinstriped suit and kissed him hard, propelling them both back towards the fireplace.

The Doctor was surprised by the kiss, and for a half-a-second he realised how wrong this could be, but something in the kiss was making his brain go haywire, and he couldn’t help but kiss back as he hit the wall. There would undoubtedly be excuses later,  but he let them slip away as his arms slid around her waist.

“ _Amy_!” The voice was closer.

Before The Doctor knew what was happening, Amelia...Amy...had grabbed a bag and ran from the room, leaving him slightly shell-shocked, and his eyes glazed over. As he was recovering, he caught sight of a sketch tacked on the wall, and ripped it down, just as a young man came into the room, dressed in light blue scrubs. “No! No, no, no, no, no way.” He said firmly, waving the drawing of the ouroboros at the man. “It’s not possible, not Anshar, later Kishar, later still, The Corsair - face of the Celestial Intelligence Agency, thief of the Callisto Pulse, infamous pirate known as The Red Lady who would trick her way onboard a ship and take it as her own whenever she got bored.” He shook his head. “It’s not possible. It _can’t_ be!”

The man seemed to have found his voice during this rant. “Who the hell are you?”

The Doctor laughed. “I’m The Doctor, and I may not be the last!” He turned at the fireplace and hit the mechanism, letting the fireplace turn again, the paper crumbled into his hand. He looked about for his companions as he returned to the spaceship. His glee gave way to frustration as he found that his companions had wandered off. Again. “Rose! Mickey! Every time! Every time, it's rule one. Don't wander off. I tell them, I do. Rule one.” He shook his head, putting the drawing in his pocket. “There could be anything on this ship!”

He turned the corner of a corridor as he said it to find a white horse. When he had said anything, that wasn’t quite what he had expected.

* * *

 Mickey Smith was enjoying his adventure, especially since The Doctor wasn’t about as much as he anticipated, which meant that he wasn’t watching Rose get all jealous again like she had before. He had gotten over her a long while back, being suspected of murder of someone who had dumped you for an alien would do that, but he still cared about her. He turned a corner like he was in an adventure movie, brandishing his fire-extinguisher-ice-gun in case there were any threats in the supposedly abandoned spaceship. 

Instead, he found something, or something like a thing. Well, it had an eye at any rate. “Are you looking at me?” The thing extended itself down, and Mickey let out a less than dignified noise, glad that Rose had come up behind him. “Look at this. That's an eye in there. That's a real eye.” 

Rose watched the eye retract back into the fitting in the wall with some sort of grim shock. but as it did, she heard something even more horrifying. Not truly wanting to know, but needing to know, she found herself taking a few steps back and opening up a burning hot hatch, sort of like a petrol cover in the wall. 

Mickey stared down the twisted cables and wires within the wall, at the lump of something in the middle, bright red and bloated. Part of him knew what it was, but he couldn’t believe it. He needed to hear it from someone else. “What is that? What's that in the middle there? Looks like it's wired in.”

Rose’s voice, when she spoke, was tinged with disgust, amazement and horror. It was like something out of a horror movie, rather than their adventures. Or maybe a bit more like their adventures than she had wanted to admit. It was a pale echo of how she remembered feeling when she had watched the Auton copy of Mickey’s head melt. “It's a heart, Mickey. It's a human heart.”

A human heart, pumping life into a spaceship rather than keeping someone alive. Part of her hoped that it had been cloned or something like that, but she remembered all to well that the crew were missing. They hadn’t gone down with the ship, they had gone into it.


	4. Bridesmaids and Barbeque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets a horse and has more fun with time windows, and Mickey and Rose step through one for the first time when Amy meets a droid before a wedding reception.

The Doctor was being followed. It was not a feeling he was unaccustomed to, but st least this time it was a horse and not The Master. “Rose!” He worked through the corridors looking for his erstwhile companion...and Mickey. No luck, but unlike his companions, the horse seemed to have no issues following behind him. even when it wasn’t wanted. He turned to the creature and put up a hand. “Would you stop following me? I’m not your mother!”

The horse snorted and this and pushed his head into The Doctor’s arm as he examined another time window. “Is this where you came from, horsey?” He asked, opening bright white stable doors and stepping through them. He found himself just outside a stable when he did, and his eyes were immediately drawn to a mass of ginger hair, like a moth drawn to the flame on a match. Amy was with a group of friends, all of them dressed in riding outfits. 

 “When I said we should go to the pub for your stag night rather than stay in, this is not what I meant!” Amy declared, attempting to stuff her hair into the riding helmet. “Whose ever heard of a pub ride anyway?”

 A tall, dark-haired young man laughed. “C’mon Amy, it’ll be fun.” Amy snorted in reply, and it made The Doctor smile. As if she could sense his presence, however, she turned and look toward him, forcing him to conceal himself along the wall of the stable.

 “Are we sure this is safe?” Another voice asked, and The Doctor risked a peek out to see the man he had startled earlier. He rolled his eyes, and resumed watching. 

 Amy had swung herself up on a chestnut horse like she had done it her entire life, but she looked nervous and held the reins a bit too tight. 

 “Oh come off it, Rory.” A third, heavier man said, his voice tinged with Wales, maybe even Cardiff. “We let you bring your girlfriend with the rest of the boys on Jeff’s stag night. Don’t start complaining.”

 “She’s not my girlfriend, Rhys!” Rory, the man The Doctor had startled before, corrected.

 “And I count as one of the boys.” Amy corrected, looking in The Doctor’s direction again, and causing him to hide once more. “Now come on, I have plans to get pissed, or are you going to stand around and gossip like the girls?”

 The Doctor smiled at her words, and backtracked through the time window. This one was too risky, she had almost seen him twice, and there were more people around.

* * *

 Rose was beginning to feel just a bit frightened of the ship. Mickey was slightly ahead of her. He hadn’t yet really had a chance to get used to how they now lived. He turned to her, trying to rationalise what they had both seen. “Maybe it wasn’t a real heart.”

 “Course it was a real heart.” Rose disagreed, even though the thought made her feel distinctly queasy. Apparently she seemed slightly less affected by it than she thought.

 “Is this like normal for you?” Mickey asked, just starting to understand how much Rose had changed since she had left him. “Is this an average day?”

 “Life with The Doctor, Mikey?” Rose said simply. “No more average days.” She stopped by what seemed to be a large, plate-glass window.

 “Do you think it’s England again?” Mickey asked, curious. “Can we see England?”

 “I think we’re looking through a mirror.” Rose said. “But I’m not sure where it is.”

 They watched as Amy entered the room, dressed in a peach bridesmaid dress. “Well, that dress doesn’t fulfill the one duty of the bridesmaid dress.” Rose said, with a slight edge of envy in her voice. 

 “What’s the one duty of the bridesmaid dress?”

 The Doctor, coming up behind them, answered the question for Rose. “To make the bridesmaids look as horrible as possible in order to make the bride look better.”

 Mickey turned and looked at him. “I thought you were an alien. How is it you know these things and I don’t?”

 “Some things are universal, Mickey, my boy.” The Doctor replied, shaking his head as he thought of his various wedding days.

 Rose turned a big smile on The Doctor. “Oh, here’s trouble.” She remarked, tilting her head flirtatiously. “What you been up too?”

 The Doctor answered just as casually. “Oh, this and that. Became the imaginary friend of a Scottish girl, picked a fight with a clockwork man...” He trailed off when the horse saw fit to stick his head around the corner and whicker. “Oh, and I met a horse.”

 “What’s a horse doing on a spaceship?” Mickey asked, in the same tone he used when The Doctor had told Rose to show him the squash courts. 

 “Mickey, what’s pre-interplanetary flight England doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective!” He turned serious though, pondering the mystery. “See these? They're all over the place. On every deck. Gateways to history. But not just any old history.” He watched as Amy moved over to the window, checking her hair and redoing her lip gloss. Someone else entered the opulent room, and spoke to her, though they could not hear what was being said, the other girl left shortly after. “Her history. Time windows deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the fifty-first century stalking a woman from the twenty-first. Why?”

“Who is she?” Rose asked, watching The Doctor’s face as he watched the window. She felt a stab of jealousy, not unlike their last adventure.

 “Amelia Pond,” The Doctor said, forming the name carefully. “Now known to her friends as Amy.”

 “Why are they so fixated on her?” Rose wondered aloud, unsure if she was referring to the clockwork androids or The Doctor himself. “If she’s just a normal person?”

 “Most powerful thing in the world, normal people.” The Doctor said, shaking his head. “Making something out of nothing, scratching out existence from the bottom...but there’s something special about her. I just...don’t know what it is yet.”

 “Something you don’t know?” Mickey said, semi-sarcastically. “That doesn’t happen often, does it?”

 “Not often.” the Doctor replied. “Big old brain like mine, gets overstuffed sometimes. Bringing up things that don’t really relate...” Suddenly, he caught sight of the clock on the far wall from them, it’s face intact, but the wires for the batteries hanging loose.

* * *

 Amy turned away from the mirror in the middle of the hotel. It was Jeff’s wedding reception, and Sarah had told her that Rory was planning to finally ‘make his move.’ The thing was, Amy didn’t really want Rory to make his move. Which is why she was here, checking on her sash for the third time and trying to decide what to do if her best friend really did decide to kiss her while they were dancing. 

 When she finally turned, she saw someone dressed like Victoria Beckham. Really, who wore black to a wedding? How long had this woman been creeping in the corner, listening to her talking out her inner battle? “How long have you been there?” She demanded. It had to be some relative of the bride’s, because she knew everyone from Jeff’s family. Leadworth was too small not to know.

The android turned slowly, and she found herself not looking at a member of the bride’s family, but a female version of the monster under her bed. Before she could move to react, whether to scream or something else, there was a noise behind her, and her Fireplace Man was stepping out of the window with something that looked rather dangerous.

“Hello, Amy. Hasn’t time flown?” The Doctor said, stepping toward the droid with purpose.

 “Fireplace Man!” Amy said, surprised, but less so than she probably should. She moved slightly to get a better look as he sprayed the Posh-droid with he weapon he was holding, causing it to freeze up.

 If everyone started to relax, it wasn’t for long as the android let out a loud creak. 

“What’s it doing?” Mickey asked, catching the fire extinguisher again as The Doctor finished with it. 

The Doctor stepped closer to the droid, inspecting the plastic face. “Switching back on. Melting the ice.”

Mickey was not comforted by this. “And then what?”

The Doctor was serious. “Then it kills everyone in the room.” He said simply. As if reacting to his statement, the droid extended her hand, causing him to jump back. “Focuses the mind, doesn’t it?” He took a breath and focused on why he was here. “Who are you? identify yourself.”

The droid made no move to answer.

The Doctor made a face and looked back at Amy. “Order it to answer me.”

Amy was puzzled, but took a slight step forward. “Why would it listen to me?”

“I don’t know, but it did when you were a child.” The Doctor pointed out. He walked to her side and lowered his voice, speaking in a stage whisper in her ear. “Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

Amy took a deep breath. “Answer the question.” She ordered. She could feel the eyes of the two strangers on her, especially as the droid did not move. “Answer any question asked of you.”

 The droid took a moment and lowered it’s hand, head still tilted awkwardly, like a marionette whose strings were not being controlled. “I am repair droid seven.”

“Well, what happened to the ship then?” The Doctor queried. “There was a lot of damage.”

 “Ion storm. Eighty-two percent systems failure.” The droid answered mechanically.

 That explained the damage, but not while it was still there, hanging in space, a derelict. “That ship hasn't moved in over a year. What's taken you so long?”

 “We did not have the parts.”

 Mickey, ever the mechanic, laughed. He knew that song and dance. It seemed almost comforting to know that even in the fifty-first century things couldn’t be fixed with a wave of a wand. You still needed parts. “Always comes down to that, doesn't it? The parts.”

 “What’s happened to the crew?” The Doctor asked. In his scans he had notice that no escape pods had been deployed. 

 The droid only echoed itself. “We did not have the parts.”

 That was not helpful. “There should have been over fifty people on your ship. Where did they go?”

 Again, the echo. “We did not have the parts.”

 Amy realised it first and mad a sound of disgust. “Did you use the  _people?_  As  _parts?_ ”

 “They were compatible.” The droid answered.

 “The crew?” Mickey repeated, trying to fight back the bile rising in his throat.

 “We found a camera with an eye in it, and there was a heart wired in to machinery.” Rose said, looking ill.

 The Doctor looked at the droid, and imagined the people, the repair droids only doing what they were told, not understanding the heinous nature of their actions. “It was just doing what it was programmed to. Repairing the ship any way it can, with whatever it could find. No one told it the crew weren't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelt of?”

 “Someone cooking.” Rose said, trying to pull herself together in the face of what she had said, what she had thought when she smelled it. 

 “Flesh plus heat.” the Doctor said, shaking his head. “Barbecue.”

 “Well, I’m never eating again.” Amy said, unable to help making a face. 

 “You've opened up time windows. That takes colossal energy. Why come here? You could have gone to your repair yard. Instead you come to twenty-first century England? Why?” The Doctor was afraid he knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. If he had to stop them, he would, but he had to know.

 “One more part is required.” The droid intoned. 

 “So why haven’t you taken it?” The Doctor asked, looking back at Amy, who despite being scared, was resolute. 

 “She is incomplete.” This droid echoed the one in the bedroom so long ago.

 “I’ll show you incomplete, you Spice-girl-horror show!” Amy said, taking several large steps forward.

The Doctor stopped her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promised. “I’ve gotcha.” His tone had softened just enough to make Rose’s eyes cross. When he turned back to the droid, however, he was all business, The Oncoming Storm, come to call. “What, so, that's the plan, then. Just keep opening up more and more time windows, scanning her brain, checking to see if she's  _done yet_?”

 Rose, trying to hide her jealousy, and failing, at least from Mickey, asked a question. A question that had bothered her since they had started watching at the mirror. “Why her? You've got all of history to choose from. Why  _specifically_  her?”

 “We are the same.” The droid intoned. 

 That triggered something in Amy, who had gone almost docile in the doctor’s arms when he had taken hold of her. “ _We are not the bloody same!”_  She shouted.  

“We are the same.” The droid intoned. 

 For a moment, The Doctor felt her shake and thought she was giving in to fear, but as he shifted his hand to place a comforting palm on her back, he realised that it was not fear but anger. 

“Get out.” Amy said, in a cold voice. 

“Amy, no!” The Doctor said, releasing her. “No!” But it was too late, the droid had teleported.

“it’s back on the ship!” the Doctor said, hurrying back to the mirror. “Rose, take Mickey and Arthur. Get after it. Follow it. Don't approach it, just watch what it does.”

Rose started towards the mirror, but then paused, looking over her shoulder. “Arthur?”

“Good name for a horse.” The Doctor replied, as if it were obvious.

“No, you’re not keeping the horse!” Rose declared.

 The Doctor shooed her through the mirror. “I let you keep Mickey. Now go! Go! Go!”

* * *

 Rose took a deep breath and stepped back through. She was silent through the corridors at first, trying to make sense of it all.

Mickey had a feeling that she probably felt like he did after Christmas, when he had said I love you, and she had only said goodbye with the biggest smile on her face, as if she couldn’t care less. So, being Mickey, he decided to joke. “So, that Doctor, eh?”

Rose bristled. “What are you talking about?”

 Mickey figured this was as close to as he was going to get to make his point. “Well, Amelia Pond, The Corsair, Sarah Jane Smith, Cleopatra...” Rose made a face at him. It was as close to her ‘are-you-really-watching-a-football-match’ face as he’d seen in ages. It was working and he stepped ahead of her, walking backwards to keep it going. 

 “Cleopatra he mentioned her  _once_  and The Corsair was male half the time!” Rose argued, feeling particularly sensitive.

“Yeah, but he called her Cleo.” Mickey argued. “And apparently The Corsair was a  _bad gir_...”

 Mickey!” Rose shouted as an android grabbed him from behind. She struggled for a moment as she was restrained, before everything went black. 


	5. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor forges a mental connection with Amy, and she follows his lead, then she leads him onto the dancefloor.

Once Mickey and Rose had disappeared back through the mirror to follow and observe the droid, The Doctor turned back to Amy, who was still bristling, but even he could tell that the anger was a fragile cover for her fear. “Amy, you’re going to have to trust me.” He said honestly, stepping towards her. “I need to find out what they're looking for. There's only one way I can do that.” He raised his hands at the side of her face, reaching for her temples, and gently placing his hands on her cheeks. “It won’t hurt a bit.”

Amy jolted slightly as he established the link, sliding into her mind, but interestingly, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, resting her forehead against his, unintentionally making the connection stronger. “You’re in my head.” She said, slightly awed.

The Doctor didn’t answer right away, as he explored the landscape of Amy’s mind. He would have agreed with the androids and said she was incomplete if asked, but he didn’t think they were talking about the same thing. There were staircases that led to nowhere, like the landings and connections had been destroyed or had rotted away. There were singular memories that flitted about like moths, without context, unable to connect to anything else. This was a mystery, but the most important thing was on the floor. footprints in golden sand, so many that The Doctor’s hearts ached. “Oh, Amy, you’ve had some cowboys in here.”

“Are you going through my memories?” Amy asked, as things replayed across her mind. This was an interesting development, how could she use it?

“If there's anything you don't want me to see, just imagine a door and close it. I won't look.” The Doctor reassured her, wanting her to know that she was safe with him, that he was different than these droids, who were scanning her brain without consent or finesse. That he respected her and her privacy. It was enough of an intrusion that he had to be here at all, looking about at boardwalks and scaffolding linking her life together so capriciously, swaying in nonexistent wind without any true support.

Amy’s lips quirked in a smirk at that, and she deliberately recalled a few of her more interesting memories. Well, perhaps memories wasn’t the right word, but it worked well-enough for this context.

The Doctor suddenly found the opposite of what he had suggested happening. Instead of closing off more private sectors of her mind, she opened her mind fully, without reservation. The connection strengthened again, but he was distracted by the doors that had appeared suddenly in front of him like so many time windows. “Actually there's a door just there. You might want to cl...Oh, actually, several.”

 Amy would have snorted at how he was missing her point, but she had more important questions, and if he wasn’t going to chase her thoughts, well, he could answer some questions at least. “Do you get used to this? Being in someone else’s mind?”

“I don’t make a habit of it.” The Doctor admitted. There had been a time when he was accustomed to connection, even when not purposely establishing a link. Before the Time War there had always been the background noise of the other Time Lords, not like this, where he could see, hear, and feel Amy’s mind, but more like a hum of presence, a support network of like minds, even for an old renegade like him.

“Why not?” Amy asked, unable to help her curious mind. “How can you resist it, connecting to someone like this?”

 The Doctor could have answered a thousand different ways, he could have mentioned most human’s fear of psychic energy, their need for privacy, scientific differences between his brain and other species, or even the despair of connecting to someone who would die and what it was like to be alone in your head when you were not meant to be. If it were not for his connection with the TARDIS he would have gotten far more mad much faster. Instead, he avoided all of these topics entirely. “What age are you?”

 “You’re not supposed to ask a girl her age.” Amy teased. “But I’m twenty-one.”

“It’s  not my question, it’s theirs. For some reason, that means you're not old enough.” The Doctor explained. “They’ve been scanning your mind, because they need an exact age.” He felt her jolt again, and suddenly, more of those moth-like, unconnected, contextless memories surrounded him. He could barely see for all their fluttering. “Sorry, you might find old memories reawakening. Side effect.”

Amy ran from the flashes in her mind. She ran where she always ran to when she was frightened or scared or alone. She ran to her Fireplace Man, who had saved her from the monsters under her bed. It was easier than she expected, and soon she found herself focusing on what she was seeing instead of what he was seeing. “So lonely.” She said, feeling as though her heart would break.  

“It’ll pass.” The Doctor reassured her, watching her memories of leaving home, of her parent’s death, of an aunt who cared, who did her best, but had to work to put food on the table and needed to escape from the child in order to feel sane, the feeling of being abandoned and alone. “Stay with me, Amy.”

If she were honest, Amy had never felt more with someone in her life. Looking into the Doctor’s mind, all burning orange sky and bright red grass and deep dark shadows, she found someone just as lonely as she had been, and like anyone in the universe, greedy for connection, like to like, she reached for it, and was swept under a wave. “Oh, Doctor.” She said with new knowledge, unable to help it. “Even surrounded by those you love, still alone.” For a moment, she could feel anything. “Even after all that pain and misery, it just made you hold yourself tighter in control, it made you kind, even when the well of mercy only has so little left.”

The Doctor broke the link in shock, forcing himself out of her mind and pulling her from his. “When did you start calling me Doctor? How did you do that? It’s impossible!”

Amy shrugged. “You opened the door, I only stepped through it. You told me to stay with you.”

“I didn’t mean...that shouldn’t have been possible!” The Doctor replied, reaching for his pocket and his sonic screwdriver. 

 Amy grinned at him, grabbing his hand inches away from his pocket. “Come on, Lungbarrow.” She said playfully. “Come dance with me. There’s a wedding out there.”

 “I can’t.” The Doctor said, trying to wriggle free. Hearing his House's name had made his hearts skip. “They may come after you again.”

“Then it’d be best if you stayed to protect me, wouldn’t it?” Amy said, all challenge. 

“I can’t...the time windows...” The Doctor was searching for reasons, trying to cling to his many rules for good behaviour, to keep himself tighter in control.

“Time is not the boss of you, Time Lord.” Amy shot back. 

The Doctor was off-balance and unsure. He wanted to stay, but he knew he shouldn’t. The prudent thing to do, the wise thing to do, was to turn around and go back through the mirror. It had been so long, though, since he since he had not been alone in his mind that he wanted to cling to the afterglow as long as he could. “What did you see?”

Amy tugged at his hand again. “That even the loneliest person in the universe dances at weddings, Thete.”

“What did you see?” The Doctor demanded again. She shouldn’t be able to see so deeply, not from such a quick link. It was impossible, even for Time Lords.

Amy grinned at that, taking a few steps back. “Dance with me.”

* * *

Hours later, The Doctor found himself once again studying the woman that a broken ship full of repair droids had punched holes in time to stalk. She was sleeping, curled up on her side, and deep in a REM cycle. He should leave, he knew it. She would only sleep so soundly for a short window of time and Mickey and Rose were bound to have found some sort of trouble. Thoughtfully, he ran his thumb over the tattoo on her shoulder. He hadn’t seen it earlier, because she had covered it with some sort of concealer. The scales of the snake under his fingertips were formed by intricate celtic knots, something so utterly the lonely Scottish girl in the village in something so familiar to him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, smiling to himself as he tied his tie around his head, and then stepped through the fireplace.


	6. The Calvary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to come to a head as Rose and Mickey get kidnapped.

 

When Rose came back to consciousness, she took a moment to realise where she was, restrained to a metal table on the derelict spaceship. It was not the first time she had woken up restrained or in trouble since leaving the Powell Estate. It was, however, the first time where instead of The Doctor beside her, it was Mickey. She looked around for the man who usually saved the day, voice getting slightly panicky. “What's going on? Doctor?” 

Mickey was no relieved when Rose woke up. He looked over at her, as she was calling for The Doctor, and he remembered, more than ever, all the reasons he  _hadn’t_  wanted to travel with Rose and The Doctor. “Rose? They're going to chop us up, just like the crew. They're going to chop us up and stick us all over their stupid spaceship. And where's the Doctor? Where's the precious Doctor now? He's been gone for flipping hours, that's where he is!” He had meant to sound more angry than panicked, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t managed it. 

Rose was trying to place where they were on the ship, and when she could expect The Doctor to arrive and save the day, or given how distracted he was with Amy, if she had to get them out on her own. She wasn’t as good at that yet. 

One of the boy-band droids stepped up beside her. “You are compatible.”

Rose panicked without letting it show for a moment. What would The Doctor do? Probably talk a lot, while instigating some plan he had just come up with on the fly that ended in ‘run’! Out of options and incapacitated, she tried to stall, hoping for her own moment of brilliance or for The Doctor to save the day. “Well, you might want to think about that. You really, really, might, because me and Mickey, we didn't come here alone. Oh no. And trust me, you wouldn't want to mess with our designated driver.” 

The droid didn’t seem scared, or even the slightest bit bothered. Instead, it extended a kind of strange, serrated blade near her neck, with an odd little brass wheel. 

Rose couldn’t help but eye the weapon, which, she assumed, meant to chop her up into bits for use around the ship, cameras, pumps and the like. She really wasn’t looking forward to this, but she didn’t have another plan, and The Doctor always saved the day. “Ever heard of the Daleks? Remember them? They had a name for our friend. They had myths about him, and a name. They called him the...”

The relative quiet of the spaceship was suddenly broken by several loud crashes and bangs in accompaniment to a rather off-key version of some tune from a musical. Unfortunately, it was a voice Rose knew well. “ _I could've danced all night, I could've danced all night.._.”

Rose didn’t know what was the more appalling thought: That The Doctor was drunk and seemed to have had a rather good night, that The Doctor was drunk and had seemed to have had a rather good night  _with Amy_ , or that The Doctor seemed in no state to save himself, let alone she and Mickey. What the hell, she didn’t have any better ideas, so she just kept talking. It always worked for him. “They called him the. They called him the, the...”

The Doctor apparently decided this was the perfect time to come into the room, spinning about and swaying like a socialite after a few too many glasses of champagne. It didn’t help that he was still singing, either. “ _And still have begged for more. I could've spread my wings and done a..._ You should meet Jeff, my  _God_  that man knows how to throw a wedding party.”

Rose couldn’t hide her frustration , as she still had a pointy clockwork blade at her throat. “Oh, look at what the cat dragged in. The Oncoming Storm.”

The Doctor swayed back into a piece of disused equipment, a little surprised at Rose’s tone. “Oh, you sound just like your mother.”

Rose was willing to put the indignity of saying she sounded like her mother to the side, as there were slightly more pressing issues at hand and throat. “What've you been doing? Where've you been?”

“Well, among other things, I think just invented the  _Yonanas_  machine a few years early. Always take a banana to a party, Rose. Bananas are good.” The Doctor observed, getting close enough to Rose to get a good look at the restraints on the table.. “And then I danced with everyone at the wedding. The women were all brilliant. The men were...a bit shy. The Macarena is  _fabulous_. I don’t know why it ever fell out of favour.” He turned his head to find the first clockwork droid he had ever encountered, and continued with his drunken act, which it seemed even his companions had fallen for; it slipped a little as he talked though, some of his anger slipping through the drunken facade. “Oh ho, ho, ho, ho, brilliant. It's you. You're my favourite, you are. You are the best! Do you know why? Because you're so thick. You're Mister Thick Thick Thickity Thick Face from Thicktown, Thickania. And so's your dad.”

The Doctor moved back so he could see both his companions easily, trying to regain the , laughing, drunken demeanour. “Do you know what they were scanning Amy's brain for? Her milometer. They want to know how old she is. Know why? Because this ship is twenty-three years old, and they think that when Amy is twenty-three, when she's  _complete_ , then her brain will be compatible.” He circled the surrounding droids then, talking more at them than to them, knowing by now that it was unlikely they would answer him. He took a seat on Mickey’s metal table as he finished explaining for the benefit of his companions. “So, that's what you're missing, isn't it, hmm? Command circuit. Your computer. Your ship needs a brain. And for some reason, God knows what, only the brain of Amelia Jessica Pond will do.”

The lead droid intoned robotically. “The brain is compatible.”

“Compatible? If you believe that, you probably believe this is a glass of wine.” The Doctor replied, removing the bad Hallowe’en mask, and pouring his goblet’s contents directly into the clockwork brain of the droid. He put the mask back on and patted it on the head as it slumped over with a choked whir. “Multigrain anti-oil. If it moves, it doesn't.” He explained to the two captive companions. 

Of course, the usually reticent repair droids apparently took this as a threat and started to click and creak their way toward them, so The Doctor quickly hurried over the console to hit a button to stop the androids. He stood back up, all business without a hint of his drunken act, sonicing the restraints on the tables to free his companions. “Right, you two, that's enough lying about. Time we got the rest of the ship turned off.”

Mickey slid off the table, starting to realise why nothing seemed to shock or surprise Rose anymore. “Are those things safe?”

“Yeah. Safe. Safe and thick, way I like them.” The Doctor said, more focused on closing the time windows.  “Okay. All the time windows are controlled from here. I need to close them all down. Zeus plugs. Where are my Zeus plugs? I had them a minute ago. I was using them as castanets.” So maybe he had been having a good time before -- but he needed those Zeus plugs!” 

Rose pondered that for a moment. “Why didn't they just open a time window to when she was twenty-three?”

The Doctor had found his Zeus plugs and was frenetically clicking buttons and jury-rigged switches to try and close the windows, deliberately trying not to think about what Amy would be thinking when she realised that he had left. “With the amount of damage to these circuits, they did well to hit the right century. Trial and error after that. The windows aren't closing. Why won't they close?” 

A strange ding captured Rose’s attention, hoping it was the answer to the question. The sooner the time windows closed and they got out of here, the better. They could put this whole Amy nonsense behind them. “What’s that?”

The Doctor looked up in confusion. “I don’t know, incoming message?”

“From who?” Mickey asked, hoping against hope it was a rescue ship and they could leave this place behind.

“Report from the field. One of them must still be out there with Amy. That's why I can't close the windows. There's an override.” As he put things together, The Doctor felt himself worrying again, trying clicking switches that hadn’t worked before again. 

Suddenly, with a click, the lead repair droid flipped itself back up and expelled the anti-oil through a finger. Grudgingly, The Doctor had to admire the craftmanship and cleverness behind these robots. “Well, that was a bit clever.” Still, it didn’t help when the off switch clicked itself back on, allowing the droids free reign once again. “Right...many things about this are not good.” The strange dinging started again, this time varying in tones, like a language the TARDIS couldn’t translate. “Message from one of your little friends? Anything interesting?”

The lead droid deigned to answer this time, either still acting under orders, or because it felt there was nothing The Doctor could do. “She is complete. It begins.” As one, the droids teleported. 

“Doctor, what’s happening?” Rose asked, confused.

The Doctor looked grim. Who knew how long he had to save the life of a woman who shouldn’t exist? “One of them must have found the right time window. Now it's time to send in the troops. And this time they're bringing back her head.”


End file.
